


whiskey and tequila

by Vale307



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-16
Updated: 2019-12-16
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:08:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21812698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vale307/pseuds/Vale307
Summary: Titus Drautos had taken an oath.Never have sex with a colleague.ENG VERSION
Relationships: Titus Drautos | Glauca/Cor Leonis
Comments: 3
Kudos: 6





	whiskey and tequila

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MeinNameIstJette](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MeinNameIstJette/gifts).



***English is  
not my first language. Excuse me! ***  
  
Titus  
slowly opened his eyes, the headache that immediately took possession  
of his body.  
He knew what it was;  
hangovers.  
He closed his eyes again,  
taking a deep breath, his hands brought to his temples as he slowly  
rose from the bed.  
A sharp pain passed over  
his head.  
He cursed some God, trying  
to remember how much, and above all where, he had spent the evening to  
be reduced to that state.  
He was about to push back  
the blankets but they resisted.  
With horror, Titus turned  
his head to the sleeping figure rolled up between the covers.  
-Oh shit...-  
He couldn't believe it.  
There had to be a mistake.  
He ran a hand through his  
tousled hair as he looked at his bedroom.  
The headache got worse.  
The clothes were scattered  
on the floor, a bedside lamp lay broken by the door (since the bedside  
lamp was next to the door?), The condom box not far from his feet and,  
on the bedside table, the lubricant tube.  
-Oh shit...-  
He hoped with all his heart that things had not  
gone as he imagined but the sight of all those things left no room for  
misunderstanding.  
He took courage and got up most silently from the bed. His host did not  
seem at all disturbed by his movements, continuing to sleep peacefully  
in the warmth of the blankets.  
-shit...-  
Titus Drautos kept repeating the word "shit" like a mantra in his head  
as he walked, naked and cold, to the bathroom.  
He closed the door softly behind him, giving two turns of the key  
(which he said to himself, but he had to keep under control both the  
increasing level of stress and the headache) leaning with his hands on  
the sink to meet his reflection in the mirror.  
\- Oh shit shit shit ... -  
He had a beard a little longer than usual and, on the right side of his  
neck and on a good part of his shoulder, very visible Hickey.  
He sighed, the resignation making room for his rational side, as he  
opened a drawer to extract a container of headache pills.  
He took two.  
The experiment to become Glauca hadn't killed him ... Not even a  
headache and two pills would have killed him.  
-shit!-  
He banged his fist on the sink, thinking back to the sleeping figure in  
the next room.  
He tried to calm himself, closing his eyes, trying to recall the  
evening that had just passed.  
  
  
The work that day was more than usual.  
He had to read, review, and form all the  
reports his glaives had given him after the last battle. And there were five squads on the road.  
For four units each.  
He concentrated, putting  
work first, skipping lunch and stopping just to get something for  
dinner at an automatic vending machine in the reception hall at the  
entrance to the Citadel.  
He  
had worked all day, head bowed, without a glance at anyone and  
delegating to his deputy every activity of the glaives.  
It  
was 11pm and no one rushed to his office for injuries, fractures,  
rebellions, or various bullshit.  
This was very good.  
He finished reading the last report, threw it with a little grace in a  
folder on his desk, and stretched his arms over his head.  
For that day, he told himself, it could be enough.  
He got up, without a glance at the various files that would await him  
the next day, settling his mantle on his shoulders.  
He threw the containers of his emergency dinner into the bin as he left  
his office, the firm steps resounding in the now deserted lobby of the  
kingsglaive's headquarters.  
He said he would have walked a little.  
His apartment was half an hour away, and after a day spent sitting,  
walking was all he wanted.  
The December air caressed his skin firmly as he left the Citadel.  
The streets, at that time of the evening, were quite deserted and,  
thanks to those assholes of the civil protection service, no criminals  
wandered near the royal offices. Ne homeless. Any assholes looking for  
fights.  
Those were places that were at least 2 km from them.  
He put his hands in his pockets, muttering a song heard somewhere in  
the previous days but, who knows why, remained impressed in his memory.  
He didn't want to go back to his apartment right away.  
Of course, the idea of  
heating and a hot shower were very tempting, and he promised himself  
not to linger too long as he entered a pub not far from his destination.  
He had already been in that  
pub several times.  
Nice place, not very big,  
soft lighting, discreet staff who didn't ask questions or took an  
interest in your life. Titus  
went there whenever he was looking for a bit of solitude ... Or company.  
Depended on the days.  
He approached the counter,  
signaling the barman to come closer to order a whiskey.  
Indeed, two.  
He drank the first in one  
gulp, almost in desperation, finding enjoyment in the growing heat  
coming down his throat and stomach.  
-I didn't make you a  
whiskey type you know ...? -  
Titus grimaced as he set  
the glass down on the table which was immediately filled again.  
He smiled sideways at the  
man next to him, bringing his glass to his lips to touch it gently.  
-And I didn't think you  
were like ... Is that tequila, Marshal? -  
The other man looked at the  
bottle in front of him with his eyebrows raised, took it and poured a  
good amount into the glass.  
Titus noticed how badly he  
placed the bottle on the table, as his movements, usually delicate and  
measured, were rude and inattentive.  
The man raised his glass  
full in front of him, moving his torso to be able to talk face to face.  
-I offer you the next round.  
For the hearth and the  
house, Captain Drautos-  
Titus smiled openly as he  
brought his glass to meet the man's.  
\- At the crown guard,  
Marshal Leonis.-  
They both smiled as they  
raised their mouths to their respective glasses.  
  
  
-Oh shit...-  
The headache continued to increase, fuck dick painkillers, as memories  
began to resurface in his mind.  
He decided to take a quick shower to get rid of the night.  
Titus Drautos was not a man with specific preferences. For him, man or  
woman made little difference. But just that man, no.  
When he entered the ranks of Insomnia he had made a promise.  
No, an oath.  
Never have sex with colleagues, men or women.  
It would only lead to embarrassment and job misunderstanding.  
But no.  
The crap had to do it at least once in his life from that point of view.  
He quickly soaped his hair, using shampoo to wash himself everywhere.  
He didn't even know if it was really shampoo ... He had taken the first  
bottle he had found.  
He realized that he was more tense than he should as he hastily dried  
himself on the carpet in front of the mirror, the reflection of those  
Hickey on his neck that left him no peace.  
What time was it? At 9:00 he should have been at the Citadel and his  
work suit did not admit scarves or anything else to cover obvious signs  
of casual sex.  
-shit...-  
He promised himself he  
would not say the word "shit" until the new year.  
He emerged quietly from the  
bathroom, his bare feet on the cold floor that shook him down his back.  
But he was a soldier, he  
could stand that and more.  
Fortunately, the pills were  
starting to take effect.  
He entered the room again  
and found that:  
1 * Marshal Leonis was  
still sleeping deeply and snoring softly under the covers.  
2 * it was only 5:00 in the morning.  
-shit...!-  
the little light at his disposal came only  
from the clock radio on his bedside table and from the light that  
filtered through the half-open door. He fumbled for his underpants, trousers, and shirt.  
The  
latter, he noted with dismay, had all the booties skipped.  
-Trash that Shiva bitch ...-  
It was his work suit's  
shirt and he would have to find a solution in the next 4 hours.  
And the buttons.  
Or a seamstress.  
He also looked for socks  
and found a dark brown pair with Christmas decorations.  
He would have laughed if it  
wasn't highly embarrassing.  
He decided to take a new  
pair of socks, approaching the wardrobe but giving up the business  
after hearing the noise it made when opening.  
He glanced at Cor who moved  
under the covers, stretching an arm over his pillow.  
Fuck the socks, he would  
have gone barefoot.  
He came out of his room  
like a thief (in his house) with his clothes in his arms. He dropped onto the sofa in the  
room, putting on his underwear and trousers, then lifting his shirt now  
without any buttons.  
-.....shit...-  
  
  
They  
were staggering on the sidewalk in front of Titus's apartment, both of  
them leaning on each other to keep from falling.  
They laughed at a few jokes heard on the pub radio after finishing the  
tequila bottle.  
\- Marshal where do you think you're going like this? You're drunk.-  
Cor laughed in Titus's ear as he whispered to him.  
-You too Captain ... I'll call a taxi to go ... To go ... home ... No,  
to the Citadel ... No ... Home ...-  
Cor laughed again, clutching Titus's shoulder as he leaned against him.  
-No ... I'm too drunk to do anything ...-  
-Well, the fact that you understand you're drunk is a good thing ...-  
"Is this your house, Drautos?" Cor asked, straightening up.  
Titus stopped. A few seconds passed before answering, his gaze lost in  
something far away.  
-No. This is just my apartment.-  
They remained silent for  
five minutes, leaning on each other, while life flowed lazily beside  
them on the December night.  
-You will sleep on my  
couch- Sentus Titus, looking for the keys in the pockets of his tunic.  
He remembered putting them in his pocket, in some pocket ... But how  
many pockets did he have?  
He found them in a short time, climbing the  
stairs to the front door. He  
called the elevator and entered it with Cor, who looked a little too  
colorful.  
Titus stopped to look at his face:  
He had to admit he had charm.  
And not just for those piercing blue eyes  
surrounded by gentle eyebrows.  
And it wasn't the sideburns left long that  
framed his face or the beard that colored his chin. He observed his manly neck and the shirt that clung  
perfectly to his bust.  
-What are you looking at?-  
Titus returned to himself, bringing his  
eyes back to those pearly colors of the sky.  
-Your face, Marshal.-  
Titus clearly saw the  
surprise in the man's eyes as the elevator door opened and he took  
possession of his lips.  
  
  


He  
threw the shirt next to him, thinking if there were seamstresses in the  
Citadel.  
Surely there would have  
been.  
The guardians of the crown  
always had perfect and spotless clothing. Surely they had personal tailors.  
The Kingsglaive, on the  
other hand, did not enjoy a high budget ...  
He noticed that between his  
sofa and the front door lay his officer's cloak and Leonis's jacket.  
He looked at them absently  
for five minutes.  
Then he got up, going to  
the kitchen to get a glass of water.  
On the kitchen counter he  
found his watch, near the fruit basket, and two pairs of boots.  
And his socks.  
Here's where they were.  
He rubbed his eyes,  
returning to the couch, without having taken the water.

  
  
In defense of Titus, it must be  
said that his kiss was sweet and delicate as he passed a hand behind  
Cor's neck to bring him closer to him.  
He was surprised when the  
other man responded to the kiss with passion, almost ferocity, pushing  
him out of the elevator to nail him to the wall.  
Titus clearly heard Cor's  
mouth ask for more, stroking his lips with his tongue, determined and  
hungry.  
Titus forced his chest,  
moving the man against the door of his apartment as he opened his mouth  
to explore and be explored in a passionate kiss.  
Cor was starting to undo  
his shawl as Titus cursed his kisses as he tried to open the door with  
the keys, one hand on it and the other on the man's side in front of  
him.  
Cor  
managed to remove the heavy shawl, moving his mouth along the other  
man's neck to bite the soft flesh.  
Titus  
held back a groan as he found, thanks to the fucking Gods, the door  
patch.  
He  
pushed the Marshal in, closing the door behind him as the man returned  
to the attack to win his mouth, his hands at the zipper of your scarlet  
robe.  
Titus growled between  
kisses, removing the jacket from Cor's shoulders and throwing it on the  
floor to bring his hands under his tight shirt.  
The Marshal's muscles  
were delicious: toned and smooth under his touch.  
He ran his fingers  
between his abdominals, raising his shirt until it slipped off, only  
parting to catch his breath between one kiss and another.  
-You are delicious  
Marshal ...-  
He blew Titus against  
the other's lips as he bit them.  
-And you're still  
dressed, Captain ...-  
Cor clung to Drautos's  
tunic, reversing his position, descending to leave new kisses on his  
neck.  
Titus closed his eyes.  
He was too drunk to resist and then, he remembered in a flash of  
lucidity, it had been a while since he'd last had sex with someone.  
He was torn from his  
thoughts by a decidedly too strong bite, requiring attention, while the  
zipper of his tunic opened under the fine hands of Cor, opening on his  
black shirt.  
Cor was not delicate.  
Titus realized this when  
he took back his lips fiercely, a hungry lion throwing himself at the  
prey, while his tunic touched the ground making the medals jingle and  
Titus brought his hands to frame Cor's face kissing him more deeply.  
  
  
He decided to make  
himself a coffee.  
One of those strong, sugar-free ones that  
burn your throat and give you a slap to stupidity.  
Titus kept wondering how he could have been  
so stupid to have sex with Marshal Leonis.  
He wandered into the small  
kitchen, waiting for the coffee to be ready, watching the boots  
carelessly left for the room.  
He observed them as if they  
were snakes to keep away because, if he had touched them, they would  
have made the past night even more real.  
\- shit shit shit ...-  
The coffee was ready and  
Titus poured a full cup.  
  
  
They  
stumbled into their living room, their hands exploring and their mouth  
to savor each other.  
Titus pushed Cor onto the couch, towering over him with his body.  
He was warm and hard on his fine shirt. He could feel the power as he  
raised and lowered his chest with every groan, with every breath.  
Titus stretched out a hand on the other man's side to hold him in place  
while he held his arm against the other and raised just enough to move  
his hand lower while his mouth choked Cor's moans.  
He pulled away for a moment just to be able to look at it.  
He had never met the Marshal in the showers after training had never  
fought together to have a certain intimacy. Titus was surprised to find  
a body adorned with scars, the most important on the flanks, as if  
blades had tried to cut it in half.  
\- What is it, Captain? Do we play who has the most scars? -  
Titus looked at those  
lustful eyes, bringing his hand to the waist of the Guard's trousers.  
-Do not believe to win  
so easily ...-  
\- And what do we win, Captain ...? -  
Cor rose easily, clinging to Titus's broad chest, his legs intertwined  
with the man's, his mouth again searching for the other's neck.  
Titus pushed the man on the couch, returning to take care of the  
waistband of his trousers, a hand blocking his chest.  
In his eyes, Cor looked like a hungry cat: all meowed but ready to pull  
out his claws.  
Titus felt his pants tighten against his penis as he unfastened his  
belt and tugged at the Marshal's pants.  
If the man's abdominals were a show, the legs could not stand  
comparison. Toned, virile, muscular.  
He didn't dare imagine his ass.  
Cor decided to take advantage of the momentary distraction by throwing  
himself on Titus, rolling into the floor and then straddling him.  
He undid his belt with an agility that Titus admired in a drunken man,  
moaning as Cor's hands slipped into the fabric to search for his penis.  
\- shit, Cor ...-  
The latter tightened his grip on the fabric and Titus bit his lip.  
-Say it again...-  
Titus Drautos was so many things.  
A good Captain, a noteworthy battle mate, ready to jump into the fray.  
A man of honor, loyal to duty.  
And tremendously proud.  
The punch came without the least warning on  
the side of the Marshal, causing him to stagger backwards.  
But military training goes  
beyond the state of drunkenness and Cor reacted instinctively, blocking  
Titus's shoulder to the ground to hit him on the cheekbone.  
The Captain rolled again,  
the strength of his size above that of the Marshal, as he gained his  
place again above him. He  
threw himself on his lips, his hands digging at his shoulders while Cor  
answered with even more passion and the pressure in his pants became  
almost unbearable.  
He pulled away again,  
looking at the marshal's legs still wrapped in trousers as ridiculous  
handcuffs on his ankles.  
He reached out to lightly  
caress the man's leg causing him to shiver and make him move his pelvis  
towards him.  
He descended on Marshal's stomach, leaving a trail of  
kisses and licking the scars on his hips as his lover writhed toward  
his face, closing more.  
He placed his hands on his hips as he went down to bite the skin  
beneath the belly and then move inside the thigh.  
He felt his hair grab in an attempt to be guided to other places.  
He took his wrist above his head, kissing it and biting it and then  
back up to meet Cor's lips again.  
Oh, if it was delicious.  
It took all his determination not to fuck him, his floor.  
He got up, followed by his lover, as he pushed him towards the kitchen  
to throw him against the counter.  
He felt Cor's erection against his trousers, as if to touch his own,  
and that made him hurry.  
Of that pace they would not have arrived in the room.  
He bit the Marshal's neck and went to look for the belt of his boots  
with his hands to promptly free his feet, so as to remove his trousers,  
which were thrown away somewhere.  
They kissed with passion while Titus also took off his boots and socks,  
throwing everything against the refrigerator, grabbing the man's thighs  
to bring him closer to him.  
Cor clung desperately to his shirt, playing with his tongue,  
intertwining his legs on the Captain's hips.  
He couldn't last much longer.  
Titus lifted his lover, his tense arm muscles, as he pushed open the  
bedroom door and threw himself into the bed.  
He moved a hand over Marshal's panties, playing with his erection while  
torturing his mouth with his tongue.  
He felt his shirt tore, Cor's arms working frantically and with little  
kindness while he undressed him. Then Cor turned to his pants.  
He made the Captain lie down, moving his hands quickly to remove the  
last remaining clothes.  
Titus started to say something but every word died in his throat as Cor  
started to take it in his mouth.  
Thus, without warning.  
The man missed his breath.  
He dropped onto the mattress, his arms inert as Cor took speed and  
depth.  
He didn't want to moan, he tried, but a lunge of the Marshal destroyed  
all his defenses making him stretch a hand towards his head to push him  
further down, at the speed he preferred.  
His breath quickened, the hand trying to grab the man's short hair  
above him, the pleasure that was taking hold of his body.  
He pushed him away in a bad way, rising abruptly to kiss him  
passionately, turning him back against his chest so he could dedicate  
himself to the pleasure of man.  
He began to massage him  
softly while he bit his earlobe, filling himself with the Marshal's  
moans.  
He squeezed the flesh a  
little as he picked up speed, being guided by the men of pleasure that  
came from the man.  
-You really are a nice  
kitten ...- He whispered in his ear before licking and sucking him  
gently, his hand leaving an erection causing a hissing annoyance from  
his lover.  
He reached for the bedside  
table, pulling out the condom box.  
He turned the package over  
in his hands. How  
long was there?  
-What are you doing?-  
Cor bit his back as he  
joined him, pressing his erection against his back.  
-I look at the expiration  
of condoms.-  
-What are you doing...?-  
-I don't have sex without protection-  
-Are you crazy? We work practically together.-  
-I do not care-  
"We've known each other for over twenty years."  
\- No condoms, no sex.-  
Cor snorted against his ear, going to shake Titus's aching erection,  
his mouth sucking and biting his neck.  
The latter asked for his eyes, removing a condom from the package.  
\- What does this "12" tattooed on your shoulder mean? -  
Titus tilted his head, enjoying the kisses.  
\- A choice. My destiny.-  
Fuck if they were expired, he couldn't wait any longer.  
He left the box to quickly take the lubricant tube and dedicate himself  
to the man behind him again.  
\- You're old now Captain ...-  
Titus smiled sideways, taking the man's lips again, while Cor tore the  
package from his hand to open it.  
There was no embarrassment as he slipped on the condom, lightly kissing  
his body, keeping erotic expectations high.  
Drautos took the lubricant, throwing a generous amount on his fingers,  
while Cor stretched like a cat on the covers.  
Oh yes, the Marshal's ass was really a show.  
He put a finger in his  
opening, gently forcing him to mind, biting his shoulder, entering him  
slowly to get him used to it. He followed the sighs of the Marshal as he entered  
and left, inserting another finger when Cor's body leaned toward him  
asking for more.  
-Two things Marshal ...-  
Tiuts took a more decisive  
rhythm, causing impatient moans from Cor.  
\- First of all, I'm only  
two years older than you. And second of all ...-  
Titus entered his fingers,  
replacing them with his penis, gently forcing.  
-Thanks the fucking Gods  
don't have thirty anymore, otherwise tomorrow you wouldn't walk  
anymore.-  
Cor tensed as Titus slowly entered him, his head pulled  
back as the man's penis filled him.  
Drautos stood still for a few seconds to get used to Cor and to try to  
stop his increasingly pungent desire.  
He thought of the rows of reports on his desk, of the training  
sections, of his fucking glaives ... But when Cor moved towards him, he  
realized that he wouldn't really last long.  
he was not gentle.  
Lust had taken possession of him now, Cor's warmth around his erection  
feeling too strong. His thrusts were firm and harsh, the groans of Cor  
an encouragement to continue.  
He grabbed his hips, holding him still, going deeper into him, the  
sound of their skin flapping.  
Titus bit his lip, reaching for Cor's shoulder.  
He made him get up, grabbing his neck, gently tightening his skin while  
his other hand grabbed his penis to give him more pleasure.  
He sank fast, the pleasure growing more and more, as Cor grabbed his  
hair and he kissed and bit his neck, the groans that filled the room.  
\- Come for me, Marshal ...-  
Cor moaned louder, resting his head on the man's shoulder, the body the  
nurse of a growing orgasm ready to explode.  
He screamed as he poured on Titus's hand, tensing his muscles and  
squeezing a hand tightly on the man's hair behind him.  
It didn't take long for Drautos to reach  
him, increasing his thrusts by holding the man's body with his hands.  
He poured into him with a long groan, his  
head resting on that of the other man, while the orgasm overwhelmed him  
and left him exhausted.  
He remains still, holding that solid body  
still against him, feeling the sweat on his skin, gently kissing Cor's  
shoulder.  
He came out of him softly and gently,  
throwing himself on his side of the bed with his eyes closed, his  
breath short, the adrenaline going down.  
They remained silent, the only sound their  
breath and some car speeding out onto the road.  
"I would have liked to get drunk with you  
at thirty," Cor whispered between breaths, causing a slight laugh in  
response.  
"Tell me tomorrow when you  
try to walk, Marshal."  
He got up, going to the  
bathroom to fix them, while Cor turned in his bed, hugging his pillow.  
  
  
Titus  
Drautos finished his coffee and ran his hands through his hair.  
He would have a quick  
breakfast and then he would have entered work two hours earlier.  
Maybe he would train a  
little while he waited for his Glaives.  
He had just opened the  
refrigerator when soft footsteps reached him.  
Titus turned around,  
meeting Cor's hangover look in his underwear and socks as he rubbed his  
temple.  
There was a moment of  
silence before Cor spoke, his voice thick with sleep.  
\- What is there for  
breakfast? -  
\- Eggs and painkillers? -  
-Perfect...-  
Titus closed the fridge, half a dozen eggs ready  
on the counter while he took a pan from a kitchen door.  
-The painkillers are in the bathroom, first drawer.-  
Cor moaned an answer, disappearing from a door.  
He came out three minutes later, finding the landlord sitting at the  
bar eating his eggs, another plate full beside him and his clothes on a  
chair.  
He approached, taking the trousers to get dressed.  
-Eat, otherwise the eggs will suck.-  
\- What is Captain, do you want me naked in the kitchen? -  
-If that's why I already took advantage, thanks.-  
It was strange, Titus told himself, to talk quietly with someone you  
had had sex with, drunk, less than four hours before.  
And don't feel embarrassed.  
Cor finished dressing, taking a seat at the bar, starting to eat  
breakfast.  
They ended in silence, waiting for seven in the morning, enjoying the  
peace before another tiring day at work.  
They got up together, arranging the dishes and searching for their  
jackets.  
-ah Captain ...- Cor said as soon as he came out - next time, maybe,  
you will offer the drink.-  
Titus laughed as he locked the door.  
-As if you didn't see the way you walk this morning, Marshal ...-  
Cor shook his head, making his middle finger, while together they went  
down the stairs and headed for work.  
  
  
*********************************************************  
Hello everyone!  
Thanks to a fantastic group  
of people, I entered this thing called "Draucor". And this is the result of a chat  
with Bits. To  
you my story!


End file.
